Portia Prettyman
hitched her dress higher up her tanned thighs and settled herself more
comfortably on the alien's lap. "Have another chocolate hob nob, Yyergie."
Romola swore as she narrowly avoided two elderly women pushing a trolley
and swung the BMW into a parking space. "For goodness sake, Portia,
someone will see you!"
"Let them," said Portia and squealed as the hot slippery things
inside her did a little jig.
"You'll ruin his disguise!
Portia ignored her and continued rocking gently back and forth. The
car rocked with her. Romola swore again and crouched lower in her seat.
"It took me two hours to put his mascara on."
"My bottom's nowhere near his — ahhh — mascara..."
Portia threw back her head and closed her eyes. Yyerg devoured another
chocolate hob nob. A little girl passing behind the car stopped and
clutched at her mother's hand. "Mummy, what's that woman doing
on the back seat? Is she sick?"
The woman blushed and hurried her daughter away.
"For goodness sake, hurry up Portia! There are two trolley attendants
coming!"
"They're not the — ahhh - only ones... Oh Yyerg, yes, YES, ohh,
ah, my darling, deeper, ah, ohhhh!"

Five minutes later Romola was wiping the last of the chocolate from
Yerg's face while Portia did her best to cover his green skin with foundation.
"You could have waited til we got home!" she complained.
"You're a fine one to talk, you had him twice this morning."
"But not in Tesco's bloody car park!"
"Portia giggled and smoothed down her dress. "You should try
it, it was fantastic."
"So I heard, said Romola, dabbing at Yerg's chin with a cotton
bud. "He'll have to do. Is the coast clear?"
Portia nodded and cautiously opened the door. They guided Yyerg out
of the Ladies and retrieved their trolley. "Now what?" asked
Portia.
"You promised me an egg boiler," said Yyerg peevishly. "And the
vegetable oil I need for the fuel system."
"Essentials first," said Romola, and headed for the lingerie
section.
"What's 'Everdry comfort wings?" asked Yyerg, picking up a
packet with the picture of a girl playing tennis in a pair of tight,
yellow shorts.
"Put that back!" hissed Romola.
"What're these for?"
She snatched the tampons out of his hand and hastily put them back on
the shelf.
"Hurry up, Romola!"
Romola tossed twelve packs of tights and a two pairs of knickers into
the trolley and wheeled it round to the hardware section.
"Can I have my egg boiler now?" asked Yyerg.
"In a minute," said Romola, searching the shelves.
"Why an egg boiler?" asked Portia.
"He likes eggs."
"So do I but I don't have an egg boiler."
"They're a very rare where he comes from."
"Egg boilers?"
"No — eggs. They're part of their mating rituals."
"But why does he need an egg boiler to cook them in. Don't they
have any saucepans where you come from Yyerg?"
"What's a sauce-pan?"
"Don't start him off again, Portia. It took me three days to answer
all his bloody questions when he first arrived — ah , here's one! Will
that do, Yyerg?"
He snatched it from her. "Eggss...." he murmured ecstatically,
rubbing the box against his crotch.
"He's weird!" Said Portia.

"Mummy, what's that man doing with that egg boiler?" asked
a little girl. Her mother blushed and hurried her away.
"They're weird," said the assistant manager to the security
guard. "You'd better keep an eye on them."
Romola threw the egg boiler into the trolley and headed for the vegetable
section. "Keep your eye on that security guard, he tried to look
up my skirt when I was putting the tampons back."
Portia was reaching for an alarm clock on the top shelf when Yyerg howled
with fury and pounced on the fresh veg counter.
"Put those down!" said Romola. "We don't need them."
"Filthy alien sex toys!" he snarled, and started throwing
courgettes onto the floor.
Romola tried to grab him, but he twisted away and continued hurling
the vegetables in every direction.
"What's the matter with you? They're just courgettes!"
"Don't you know?" asked Portia struggling to retrieve the
vegetables.
"What do you mean?"
"They're exactly the same colour and shape as his two—"
"Shit!" said Romola. Two elderly women ducked as another courgette
sailed over their heads.

"Are you sure it was her?" whispered PC Boddington to the
short, crop-haired woman paying for her sandwiches at the express checkout.
"I'm hardly likely to forget that posh tart, am I? I'd recognise
that arrogant face and those tiny tits anywhere."
"You really think that's an alien with them?"
"Well it's too big for a fucking monkey and most blokes don't have
four arms."
"Four arms?"
"I saw him putting stuff in their trolley."
"What should we do?"
"Nick 'em!"
"What for?"
"You'll think of something, Frank."
"Can I search her?"
"You can fuck all three for all I care."

Romola had just managed to convince the assistant manager that their
friend was not really dangerous when she spotted Yyerg staring longingly
at a display of chocolate eggs.
"Would you like some?" asked Portia teasingly.
"Leave him alone, Portia!"
"No — yes — I hate your filthy sex drug!"
"You know you don't mean that, Yergie darling," said Portia,
stroking the outer of the two legs that were crammed into a pair of
Gerald's striped trousers. "Don't we make you happy?"
"No.. I hate you!"
"Even when I kiss you where you like it?"
Yyerg squirmed with embarrassment.
"Stop teasing him, Portia. That bloody manager is watching us."
Portia blew the man a kiss and ground her crotch seductively against
Yyerg's legs.
Romola pulled her roughly behind a display case. "What's the matter
with you? Are you mad? Stop behaving like a pissed schoolgirl on her
first date."
Portia regarded her with a puzzled frown. "I'm sorry, Romola. I
can't control myself when I'm near him. What's happening to us?"
"You're swallowing it, aren't you?"
Portia blushed and giggled. "I might be."
"I can't get enough of it either, it's so yummy."
Portia's eyes widened. "Could it be some kind of drug?"
"How should I know? Ask Yyerg, he's the alien," hissed Romola. "Yyerg? Yyerg! Where the
fuck's he got to now?"

Portia spun round. Yyerg was cramming two chocolate eggs into his mouth
and had another one in his hand.
"Shit!" said Romola. "Now you've done it!"
Yyerg belched noisily and staggered toward them, his eyes staring hungrily
at Portia.
"No Yyerg! Not here!" hissed Portia, trying to hold down her
dress down while he groped her.
"Whassa matter? he asked in a slurred voice "Don't you want
to — hic —sit on my face and—"
"Stop it Yyerg! People are watching!"
Yyerg yanked down her panties and thrust his head between Portia's legs.
"Let me kisshh your — hic - jewelled belly...drown between
your milk white breasts and lick you — hic— "
Romola clamped her hand over his mouth and drove her knee into his groin.
Yyerg doubled up and collapsed into her arms giggling inanely. "Quick
— pay for the shopping while I get him back to the car!"
"Are you sure you can manage?" asked Portia, hurriedly pulling her panties up.
"Yes — but hurry!"

"Did you see that?" asked Boddington. "The alien was giving that filthy slut oral sex! In a bloody supermarket!"
"Now would be a good time," snapped WPC French, breaking into
a run. She raced ahead and caught up with Romola just as she
reached the doors. "Got you, you bitch!"
Romola ducked as the policewoman's fist flew out and connected with
Yyerg. The alien gasped and heaved. WPC French staggered back as a stream
of brown vomit hit her in the face. Romola spun round and kicked her
viciously in the shin. The policewoman lost her balance, slipped in
the vomit and went down clutching at Yyerg's legs. Boddington tripped
over her and knocked her out as he fell heavily on top of her. Romola
kicked the policewoman again, picked Yyerg up and staggered into the
car park.

"We forgot to get any more chocolate," said Portia as they
sped away.
"You can't get enough can you?" said Romola.
Portia giggled, slipped off her panties and climbed onto Yyerg's lap.